Hi everyone and wishing all a happy New Year and pleasant memories of 2025.
Speaking of memory…
I have been thinking about memory a lot lately. Maybe, because I am at that stage of life where I have to tend to my mother’s affairs, who, at 87, has lost the ability to form long-term memories. It’s as if she has run out of tape and can’t record anything new. Every five minutes, the same questions that were asked and answered a dozen times. That affliction is very cruel. Her mind is sharp, and she can debate and speak about a subject at length, so I would hesitate to call it dementia—no hallucinations, no rabid, meandering speech, just the recorder button is inoperative. Exactly like that movie, Memento. In fact, I tell people there is nothing wrong with her that a stack of yellow stickies and a tattoo gun would not solve. That guy in Memento got along perfectly well without the ability to form memories. Well, except for the whole being used to commit murder thing. Other than that.
We are our memories. Everything you think you are, is a memory. So what happens to “you” when you lose it? Are you erased? Or is your memory, and that part of yourself, inscribed in spacetime somewhere? I touched upon this subject in my second book, “Hotwire” and I am considering writing a new book that delves more deeply into it. Biology tells us that when we remember, we are remembering the most recent memory, which becomes a copy of a copy of a copy, and thus prone to errors. We all have had the experience, I am sure, of finding an old photo that absolutely proves the old Dodge Rambler was red while you positively remember it was blue.
What if we could take a drug that allowed us, not to remember, but experience exactly the same sensory perceptions you had when the original memory occurred, say, because those sensations are buried in your cells somewhere? It would kind of be like time travel, you could go back and experience a past event, but not affect it. I think there would be a lot of people—I call them “go-backers” who would spend the rest of their lives in those memories, in a coma, kept alive by a glucose drip. And what a boon it would be for the legal profession? No more eyewitness testimony, take a pill and experience it for yourself. Would that pill show us there is an inviolate objective, truth, or would it instead reveal there is none, that reality is created by the observer?
Memory, time, and consciousness all seem to be intertwined. We can posit a theoretical “now”, but the more we try to look for it, that slippery rascal eludes us! Because as I type “now” at a point in so-called “time”, it recedes into the past. To consider it, I rely on my “memory.” In fact, all my so-called “consciousness” is experienced via memory. Consciousness is not “real-time”. Does the act of visiting a memory create time and consciousness, or is the other way around?
And don’t get me started about the afterlife. If there is an ”afterlife with a “you” in it, then it must have our memories, because all we are is memories. One of the protagonists in “Hotwire” makes that point explicit: “Not even God can take away your memories, because if She did, “you” wouldn’t be “you.” So the old saw about not being able to take it with you is nonsense. You can’t bring a flat screen TV or a McMansion with you to the afterlife, but you can bring your memories. So, invest in your memories, not TVs and McMansions! I think this is what Matthew (16:19-20) meant when he wrote:
Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moths and vermin destroy, and where thieves break in and steal. But store up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where moths and vermin do not destroy, and where thieves do not break in and steal.
He wasn’t talking about giving money to the church. (Which, not surprisingly, happens to be the interpretation favored by preachers.) He was talking about investing in your memories.
My wife and I argue about different memories. Like, she remembers, “I told you to take the laundry out of the dryer” and my memory is “Nope.” I try to explain to her my theory about multiverses—“now” is like a sliding knot on a frayed rope, and the past is the individual strands. We can both agree on “now” but as soon as it slips into the past it is subject to fraying into multiverses, all true, but different. In my strand of the multiverse, she did not tell me anything about the laundry. In her strand, she did. At that point, my strand gets thoroughly pounced. Hers is like a battleship hawser, mine, a gossamer.
Anyway, that’s book #4. In the last newsletter, I promised the first chapter of Book #3, “Google Maps Handicap” (with “Google” changed to a name that won’t get me sued). It is a draft, but maybe enough to give you an idea where it is heading. Comments and reactions greatly appreciated. Here it is!
Book #1—“Submerged” continues to astound me. This month marks the tenth in a row it is an Amazon bestseller. This past month I gave 3 talks on podcasts, available here. For January, I have no appearances scheduled, but I am teaching a class at George Mason University on submarines. It promises to be exciting but a lot of work—quite different to teach an entire class than a one-hour talk!
Book #2, “How to Hotwire an Airplane” is showing signs of life, with 1-2 copies a day sold! Yay! Anyone who has read it, I would sure appreciate a review.
That’s it ‘til next month. Thank you for reading, and I hope your memory—whatever that is—of reading this is a pleasant one!